A Simple Rose
by AnotherDreamer
Summary: When forced to work together, Draco and Hermione find that it really isn't as horrible as they thought. Complications ensue, and two people will learn a valuable lesson about the irrational workings of the heart.
1. Lonely Solitaire

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. All featured characters belong to the genius, J.K. Rowling. I wish I could say I owned Draco in all his bad-boyness, but alas, I do not. Please do not sue me. Enjoy!:)

_-Lonely Solitaire-_

_September 1998_

The rain ran down the windows of the Hogwarts Express in sheets, distorting the view of the outside, which ran by in a blur. Hermione sat, staring out the window. The seventh year felt a small amount of loneliness as she listened to Harry and Ron laughing with their girlfriends (Ginny and Lavender), not meaning to exclude her, but doing so all the same. She missed the way things used to be, the Golden Trio, The Three Musketeers, one for all and all for one. It just wasn't like that now. She tried to be happy for her two best friends, she really did, but sometimes, it was just so hard. Jealousy overwhelmed her even when she didn't want it to, and green just wasn't her color. She was supposed to be supportive and loyal, just like the Hermione Harry and Ron knew and expected her to be. But lately, that wasn't what came to her naturally.

Hermione absently stroked Crookshank's fur and tried to drown out the happiness all around her. She tried to remember the way things used to be, when she was one of the guys and girls and Quidditch didn't matter. Back when getting into trouble was the highlight of the day, and schemes were cooked up between the three of them, and there was never a boring moment when they were together. She loved them dearly, but there were times when she wondered whether or not her presence made any difference to them at all.

Hermione gathered up all the thoughts that made her happy, and allowed herself to smile. After all, she was returning to Hogwarts. She _should _be happy.

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As she walked through the heavy oak doors and into the Great Hall, Hermione thought, _I'm home. _Everything was just as she had left it.

"You okay, Herm?" asked Harry.

"Well, actually—" Hermione started, but was promptly cut off.

"Come on Harry, let's find a seat! They'll be starting the Sorting Ceremony soon! I want to see who all ends up in Gryffindor this year!" Ginny said excitedly. With that, she grabbed Harry and began dragging him further into the crowd. Ron had already disappeared.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. Later," Harry mouthed to her as Ginny continued to drag him.

"Sure Harry. Sure," Hermione whispered, but he was already gone, vanished in the crowd. "See you."

She entered the Great Hall with everyone else, and the Sorting began. "Fiona Charleston…" Hermione drowned it out, trying to be somewhere else. Being around all of these happy people was suffocating her.

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As the enchanted food appeared on her plate, she stared at it, feeling even less hungry than she did before. Harry and Ron were off in their own little worlds again, momentarily forgetting her presence, which was just as well. "I'm going outside," she announced to no one in particular, since Ron and Harry were engaged in deep conversation with Lavender and Ginny, who were giggling profusely. It almost made her sick to watch them, much to her dismay. She shouldn't feel this way at all.

Hermione gathered herself up and left the table. Everyone was completely oblivious to her departure, as usual, and she left without making a scene. She stepped out into the September air, the chill sending shivers down her spine. She had brought a scarf, and tucked it in tightly, bundling herself up, trying to keep in all the warmth she could. A breeze blew softly, tickling her cheek and making it sting.

Hermione looked up at the sky, the clouds an ominous gray, and extremely foreboding. She willed it silently to rain. Ever since she was a little girl, she had loved the rain. As though the sky was conscious and had heard her thoughts, Hermione felt the first drops on her scalp. She rejoiced inwardly as it began to pour, soaking her almost instantly.

The girl hurried as quickly as she could to the shelter of her favorite tree on the grounds. It was a beautiful weeping willow, Hermione's favorite tree, and it was near the lake. She loved the water, and had spent much time under the tree, doing homework, thinking, whatever suited her. It was her favorite place, second only to her beloved library. She loved the security of the drooping limbs, which seemed to welcome her and encompass her as she stood beneath the massive tree. "Hey, Willow. I think you've grown larger since the last time I saw you." _Look at you now, Hermione, _she thought to herself. _You've resorted to talking to trees. No matter. It's not as though anyone is here to witness this anyway, _she thought bitterly. _No even your _best _friends. You're my friend. _She thought to the tree._ So steadfast. _She chuckled softly to herself, warming her soul a little. She took out a little pocketknife that she always kept with her. _Who's going to know? _She thought. Hermione carefully carved her name into the tree, her loyal, strong tree. She was reminded all of the romance novels she'd read and all of the muggle television shows she'd watched where the boy and girl would carve their names into a tree, declaring their love for one another. A single tear slid down her cheek as she also remembered that there was no second name to inscribe into the tree. She found herself wishing there were more than ever, and sat down on the damp ground, hugging her knees close to her body for warmth, security, and comfort. All around her, the rain continued to fall, dripping through the leaves and onto Hermione's face, disguising her tears.

"The little mudblood all alone for once? Not flanked by Potty and Weasel? How odd," the voice drawled lazily.

"Oh, bugger off, Malfoy," Hermione said weakly, not in the mood for Malfoy's crap.

"Excuse me," he said sarcastically. "Didn't mean to bother the little mudblood. If you'll excuse me."

"What are you doing out here anyway, without your cronies? I didn't know they _let _you have time to yourself."

"I don't believe that's any of your business Granger."

"Suit yourself," she said dejectedly, and stood up from the security of her tree.

"Leaving so soon?"

"What does it look like, Ferret?" and with that, she turned her back and left him there in the rain. Without her knowing it, Draco found himself wishing she'd come back. Even if the banter was inane and ridiculous, it was intelligent, witty, and entertaining. Whether or not she was a mudblood, Draco enjoyed her company. _What on Earth am I thinking? _He thought to himself. _She's Granger, for God's sake. Malfoys don't associate with mudbloods. It's not as though we're friends… _A smile crossed his lips briefly at this last and completely preposterous idea. He turned on his heal, being thoroughly soaked and cold, and headed back toward the castle, following the footsteps Hermione had taken just minutes before.

**A/N: **Well? What do you think? This is the first one where I've actually thought out a whole bunch of the story before I start writing. I'm thinking…DM/HG? Obvious. But it's not going to happen fast. Be patient with me, and help me out here people. I hope you like it. Constructive criticism, complements, suggestions…all is welcome. Love you guys!:)

Don't forget to leave a review!

-Ella****


	2. Of Cruel Ironies and Potions

_-Of Cruel Ironies and Potions-_

Hermione entered the castle, closing the oak door behind her and shutting out the cold. She wasn't surprised to find that no one was waiting for her, or even looking for her. The bitterness in her heart deepened, wishing and desiring for someone, anyone, to be searching and worrying about her. But there was no one. Another layer was added to the walls around her heart. She wouldn't let her most prized possession be damaged.

She walked the halls toward the Gryffindor dorms, lost in thoughts of her own. She reached the Fat Lady sooner than she had anticipated, and stated stonily, "Lopsided lemon drops." The portrait swung open, admitting her, and she stepped into the fire lit common room that serviced all the Gryffindors. There were only a few people in the common room, sitting on chairs, playing chess, or talking in small groups. Most of them didn't even notice her enter at all. She walked across and collapsed into her favorite chair, directly in front of the fire. Gosh, it felt good to be back. The light from the fire played on her face, warming it and throwing strange shadows across it.

Hermione soon found her eyelids heavy. She curled up in the chair and promptly slid into a peaceful sleep.

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Someone was shaking her. _No, no, no. Just five more minutes, please? _She thought. "Hermione? Come on Hermione! You'll be late for breakfast!" That did it. She sat up with a bolt.

"Harry?" she questioned, bewildered for a moment.

"Yes, it's Harry. Come on, Herm. If you don't go get ready now, you might miss your first class. We're already missing part of breakfast."

"Thanks, Harry. I don't know how I could have fallen asleep in the chair."

"Don't worry about it Hermione. Just hurry up!"

Hermione hurried up the stairs to her dorm. She rummaged through her stuff and pulled out a set of clothes and a robe and hurried off toward the showers. She undressed and let the warm water run all over her body, warming her to her core.

She dressed quickly and hurridly ran a brush through her hair, which was still wet, and hurried down to meet Harry.

"Come on, Herm. If we hurry, we'll be able to snatch a piece of toast before Potions."

"Thanks again Harry. Let's go," said Hermione, grateful for any time she got to spent with Harry. He was so aloof these days.

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Harry and Hermione hurried toward the dungeons munching on their toast and laughing like old times. "Harry?" said someone behind them. They both turned to see Ginny hurrying toward them through the throng of students in the halls, all milling about in the direction of their classes. "Give me just a minute, Hermione. I'll be right back."

"Right, Harry," muttered Hermione, her heart plummeting. "Sure." She watched him hurry off toward Ginny, leaving her. She turned and moved with the crowd to her class. She dreaded more than ever having to face Snape today.

Hermione walked into the dungeon and took her usual seat. The other students casually walked in, among them, Ron and Lavender, followed by Harry and Ginny. She made eye contact first with Harry, then with Ron, looking at them pleadingly. They followed their girlfriends to the other side of the room and took their seats, leaving Hermione alone. This year was going to stink. Even simple things like choosing seats were becoming difficult, complicated even.

When everyone had filed in, the seat next to Hermione was still empty, which was fine by her. She really didn't mind. Snape stood up from his desk and addressed the class. "Please turn in your books to page 378. We will be beginning a _Instanto Morticio _Potion today, also known as "The Instant Death Potion. Can anyone tell me—" He was interrupted by the door being flung open rather loudly. A very late and very tactless Draco Malfoy came sauntering into the Potions classroom, the classic smirk plastered on his face, as always. His expensive shoes clicked on the stone of the floor. "Would you care to take your seat, Draco? Or would you prefer to interrupt my class further?"

"Excuse my tardiness, Professor. I got lost on my way here."

"Fine. Just take you seat, please." He sat down with a smirk, and everyone but the Slytherines noted that Snape neither questioned the obvious lie, nor deducted points from his house. Draco took the only seat that was left; right next to Hermione.

Hermione cursed inwardly. This year really was going to stink. Not only had Ron and Harry abandoned her, she was stuck in her least favorite class annoyingly close to her least favorite person. Oh, the cruel ironies of life.

"Now since everyone is seated," Snape began again. "I do believe I was saying something about the _Instanto Morticio_? Oh, yes. This potion is the most fatal of all death inducing potions, therefore, the most effective. It was discovered by Francis Valesco in the early 14th century. As soon as the potion touches any part of the inner body, the subject is as good as dead. Well, dead in fact. Seeing this fact, we will be testing our potions on mice to determine its effectiveness. This potion, however, will take most of the year to complete, and is very difficult. You will be working in pairs as you are seated. There will be _no _exceptions." He stressed strongly the word _no. _"You will be working together in and out of this classroom, and I suggest you get to know your partners well, as your grade will depend on the work you do together over the course of this year. We will be beginning now with step one, which is listed on page 378 of your books."

Hermione groaned. Now not only was she stuck next to him, she was stuck working with him. Oh, Harry and Ron were going to pay for this.

"I'm not exactly looking forward to this either, Granger, all though you on the other hand should be quite happy that I have decided to grace you with my presence," Draco said smugly.

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy," Hermione said, the annoyance quite obvious in her voice. Draco chose to ignore it.

"I don't think you have the right to speak to me that way, Mudblood."

"How dare you call me that!" Hermione practically screamed in outrage. "How dare you?"

"Quite easily, I'm afraid. Now, if you would be so kind, we're beginning the potion now. Kindly fetch the ingredients."

"I'll _fetch _nothing for you, Malfoy, you egotistical, lying prat!" Hermione spat the last words in Draco's face.

"Oh, I think you will. If you don't, I'll tell Snape you're not cooperating. We all know how much he likes you, Granger." By this time, rage was simmering under Hermione's fierce glare, and her eyes held nothing but loathing for this boy who had no shame. How dare he exercise any kind of power over her? Without saying anything to him at all, though her look spelled death, she rose from her seat and proceeded to the front of the room to gather the necessary ingredients. When she returned, the smirk was back on Draco's face.

"I always get what I want, Granger. I'm sure you will come to realize that. You're not that thick-headed." Hermione again said nothing, resolving to remain silent. She was afraid she might hex him.

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The rest of the day passed without incident, which was very boring for Hermione. Harry and Ron headed off to Quidditch practice at around 7:00, and Hermione was left to herself. Again. She had a rendezvous with Draco in the library at 7:30, and she was positively dreading it. They had to look up every ingredient and where to find it, as Snape had elected not to tell them which he was providing and which they would have to locate themselves. This was going to be a long year.

Hermione was finishing up a Charms essay which was to be three feet long when she glanced at the clock. The time read 7:21. Hermione groaned and packed up her things and brought the essay writing materials up to her dorm. As she was on her way out again, she passed a mirror, and ran her fingers through her tousled hair, then thought better of it. _It's just Malfoy,_ she thought. _It won't make any difference to him what your hair looks like. Better not to waste time. _She left the Griffindor common room and headed for the library.

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She arrived at the library at approximately 7:27, early as always. She proceeded to the back of the library to her favorite table, which, she realized now, she would have to share with Draco. He was so intrusive.

Hermione had spread her materials out on the table, recruited the necessary books, and was putting her quills in order when Draco decided to arrive. The time was 7:45.

"Is being late your new habit, or were you born rude?" Hermione asked, irritated.

"I wasn't late, you were just early," Draco replied. "A Malfoy is never late."

"Our time of meeting was scheduled for 7:30 and you were a quarter-hour late," Hermione said confidently, becoming flustered.

"Well, I changed it to a quarter to eight," came the easy response.

"Without telling me? Again, how rude."

"A Malfoy is never rude, either. I simply felt it was not necessary to tell you."

"Not necessary to tell ME?!" she nearly exploded. "You egotistical, selfish, rude, obnoxious, self-important—" The list would have gone on longer, had Draco not interrupted.

"All of this banter is wasting time, Granger."

"I'm wasting time? I'M WASTING TIME?!"

"No need to yell." He said the last words so reasonably that Hermione wanted to rip his head off right then and there, but she restrained herself. Breathing heavily and red in the face, she sat down and they began their work. It was dull, but quiet work, and Hermione was glad. She was sitting with another human working on a project. She was not alone and she was not unhappy. She was content.

**A/N: **Well, what do you think? I'm excited to see where this story goes. I hope that Draco isn't too out of character. I'm trying to advance the story without totally betraying their characters, and it's rather difficult. You guys are going to have to be patient because I don't want this relationship to blossom too fast. I want it to be pretty realistic in how it happens and how it develops and what happens during it. The characters are not going to change for my story, so you can all rest at ease.

Please leave a review!

-Ella


	3. The Way the Cookie Crumbles

**_-The Way the Cookie Crumbles-_**

The study session lasted until 10:30. They were still diligently looking things up and scribbling them down when Hermione glanced at her watch and sighed. "Malfoy, it's half past ten. I think we should call it a night."

"Fine by me. You've kept me working all night."

"Just cut the crap and help me clean up, Malfoy." They cleaned up all of their materials tiredly and headed toward the exit of the library. As they were walking, Hermione tripped and dropped all of her books and parchment on the floor. "Oh, I'm so clumsy." She got to her knees and scrambled to pick up everything. Since no one was around, Draco did the gentlemanly thing and got down on his knees to help her pick everything up. As they were gathering things, Draco's hand accidentally brushed Hermione's. A shiver ran up his spine with disgust.

"How dare you touch me, Mudblood?" he spat. Hermione's face flitted through several emotions. First shock, then hurt, and finally, rage. She settled on that one.

"What gives you the right to talk to me that way!?" she screamed at him. "Just who do you think you are?"

"I'm a Malfoy, and that gives me the right to do whatever the hell I want!" he yelled right back. He was surprised at the stinging sensation on his cheek. It took him a moment to realize that Hermione had slapped him. He was outraged. But his fierce anger did not even begin to rival hers.

"If I could, I'd curse you into next week! You're so full of yourself it astounds me! I'll work with you because I have to. God, I hate you. I didn't think it was possible, but I really do. I loath you, you egotistical bastard! Just leave. I can take care of myself. I don't need you!" Draco was shocked by her speech. No one he knew had the nerve.

"I—you—" Draco started, sputtering with anger.

"Save it, Malfoy. I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe you'll have realized by then what a jerk you are, though I sincerely doubt it. All I can do is hope." She stormed past him, her books and parchment in a messy bundle clutched at her breast, her cloak billowing out behind her as she walked quickly down the corridor. Hermione left a stunned Malfoy in her wake, trying to sort out for himself what on Earth had just happened. He'd been humiliated and beaten by a mudblood. That's what had just happened. He'd been told and slapped by a fricking mudblood. What in the hell was the world coming to? As he raged down the hall on noisy feet, he hoped with every ounce of being he had that he didn't run into anyone. He knew that beyond his control, he would beat them into a bloody pulp.

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Hermione kept her quick pace all the way up to the girl's dorms. She banged open the door, startling more than a few of the slumbering girls inside. She fell onto her bed and buried her face in her pillow screaming with all her might. Malfoy was such a jerk. What did he think gave him the right to treat her as dirt beneath his feet? Nothing, that's what. He had no right. She would slap him again, a thousand times, to make him understand that. She was not to be messed with. She was strong and proud, and no spoiled brat was going to break her, least of all Malfoy, who was all talk, nothing more.

Hermione stripped off her clothes and slipped into her pajamas and into bed. She had cooled down a bit, the high of her anger subsiding, and she found herself to be exhausted. Like the night before, her eyelids became heavy, and she fell into a deep sleep, and not one of her dreams contained a certain pig-headed blond Slytherin.

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The next few days were quiet, each very much like the one before it. Hermione and all the other students settled comfortably back into the rhythm that was life at Hogwarts, and Hermione felt more content with each passing day. She still raged at Malfoy and yearned to be with Harry and Ron, but this was just the state of things, she had decided. Might as well make the best of it.

She was on her way to the library for her nightly meeting with Draco. How she hated going to meet him. He was such a jerk, so full of himself, so opposite to her. Why had Snape forced them to work together again? Oh yeah. Snape was evil. She had almost forgotten.

She walked as slowly as possible to what she had come to think of as _their _table at the back of the library. When Hermione arrived, the girl was incredibly surprised to find Draco there already. _He _had been early this time.

"Hello, Malfoy."

"Granger." He acknowledged her curtly.

"Are you ready to work? We have to boil the blood of platypus tonight. I reserved an empty classroom for that. Come on."

"As you wish, Granger. How long will this take?"

"Probably most of our three hours. If we want it done perfectly, we must do it slowly and thoroughly. Sorry. That's just the way the cookie crumbles."

"Whatever. Let's just get this over with. I want to spend as little time with you as possible, Mudblood."

"The feeling is mutual," Hermione replied, trying to keep her voice even at the mention of the cruel nickname. Draco got up, and they began the silent journey, side by side and rather uncomfortable, to the empty classroom Hermione had reserved for them.

"I already set up a cauldron and got the materials from Snape. All you have to do is help me set it all up."

"Me help you? Right," he said sarcastically.

"Are you going to help me or not," came the cool reply.

"Only because I have to, Muggle."

"Just shut up and help me, Malfoy. I'm in no mood for your infantile name calling."

"I'm getting to you, Granger. You're breaking out your vocabulary, and you only do that when you're pissed." Hermione's face took a deeper hue of crimson.

"Look, Malfoy. Can't we at least _attempt _to be civil toward each other?"

"I will never treat you civilly, Mudblood. Civil implies people, and you are hardly that." By this point Hermione was almost to her breaking point. Angry and hurt tears fell down her face in streams, staining her cheeks. As she continued to cry in front of her sworn enemy, Draco watched as her rage disappeared, to be replaced with shame and embarrassment. She had vowed long ago never to cry in front of him. Her eyes looked softer when they were full of sadness and tears. He had hurt her, he realized. The tears were because of him. Tears clung to her eyelashes and made them clump together, and her eyes continued to fill and overflow with the salty water. He had been forbidden to cry when he was two. Emotion was not allowed, and he didn't know how do deal with hers. Unconscious of what he was doing, he reached out and caught a tear on his fingertip, marveling at how it turned everything beautiful inside, making shimmering rainbows. "Granger, I—"

"Don't touch me, Malfoy. Let's just get this done," she said stonily, her voice void of emotion as she wiped shamefully at the tears that soiled her cheeks. Draco had thought that he was the only one who had taught himself to conceal his emotion. He was wrong. Her face went blank, and the tremble that came with the tears was gone. She was back to normal, and yet, Draco could sense something underneath the surface that she wasn't sharing with him. And why should she? It wasn't as though he wanted to know anyway…she was just a mudblood after all…

"Fine," he finally said.

They worked in silence for the rest of the time, stopping at 11:00 to bottle up the boiled blood and return all of the materials to their places. When they reached the door of the classroom, Hermione turned, her eyes full of her heart and her face showing none of it. "Goodnight, Draco. I will see you tomorrow," she said politely, her voice still empty of feeling.

"Yeah," he said. "Later." And then she was gone. It was not until he was back in his dorm that he realized she had called him Draco. He didn't like that. It threw him off guard. Granger was just full of little surprises. He presumed that in her haste and mix of emotions she had let his first name slip. It sounded foreign to him to hear her say it, after he had replayed her last comment in his head a few times. He would have to remind her tomorrow not to call him Draco.

**A/N: **Well? I hope it's up to snuff with all the other Draco/Hermiones you've read. I'm working really hard here, people, and I think that I am actually going to finish this one. I'm thinking, fifteen plus chapters? Sound okay to you? I hope so! They're not to OOC, are they? I'm trying to have them not be because I really feel that that spoils the story. The essence of the characters is really important.

Please leave a review!:)

-Ella-


	4. The Fine Art of Compromise

**_-The Fine Art of Compromise-_**

Hermione arrived at the girls dorms, exhausted in every way possible. Her body was fatigued, her heart and soul were rinsed, having experienced almost every negative emotion in the last few hours, and her mind was tired from the hours she had spent calculating her Arithmacy assignment earlier that day. Draco was exhausting. She couldn't understand how any one person could cause so much trouble and wreak so much havoc, but he seemed to manage quite nicely. What was his problem anyway? _There you go again, Hermione, _she thought. _Wasting thought on him again, are we? You know he's not worth your time. Malfoy and his stupid "pure-bloods are better" complex. _She smiled to herself briefly and changed into her pajamas and climbed into her welcoming bed. It looked so soft and inviting…

She settled into it, reliving the past few hours. She was still fuming inwardly. This was not the first time that she had gone to bed completely pissed off. He always knew just how to get to her. Spending extra time with him was not helping. He had gotten to know what peeved her most, and he exploited that knowledge to the best of his ability. There were so many times she just wished she could _kill _him. Him and his big, fat, ugly head. Well, not exactly ugly, but definitely big and fat. Egotistical. He thought he could break her. _Well, think again, Malfoy. This is Hermione Granger, and if you think you'll break me in, you have another thing coming. _She closed her eyes and envisioned Draco as a ferret. How comforting. Before she knew it, she was asleep.

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Hermione woke the next morning to the annoying and monotonous drone of her alarm clock. "Erg." She got out of bed very reluctantly and headed off to the showers.

After her satisfying shower, she towel-dried her hair and got dressed, throwing her robe on over everything. She prepared herself for another day of Snape, another day of History of Magic, and, she thought, irked, another day of Draco Malfoy and his extra large ego. Oh well. This was life.

She stepped gingerly down the staircase into the common room to find Ron and Harry there already talking animatedly to Ginny and Lavender, who were again giggling profusely. Was that all those bimbos ever did? Hermione almost slapped herself for thinking something so rude and demeaning.

"Moring, Herm," said Harry, sounding genuinely happy so see her. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, Harry, thanks for asking. How have you been lately?" she asked in reply.

"I've been okay. You know, I haven't seen you around much. Where've you been?"

_Where have I been? Where I always am. Where have _you _been? _She thought. But restrained herself and said, "I've been around. You know, homework and stuff."

"Yeah," said Harry, becoming slightly distracted again with Ginny, who had just plopped down on his lap and was whispering feverishly into his ear. Regaining his composure, he said, "Say, Hermione, there's a Hogsmeade trip coming up in a few weeks. Me, Ron, Ginny and Lavender were going to go together. Do you want to come?" His last question sounded hopeful. Hermione was ecstatic. This was the longest conversation she and Harry had had for weeks, and now he was inviting _her _somewhere? How could she refuse?

"Yeah, 'Mione! You should join us," said Ron, speaking for the first time. "We haven't hung out with our best girl for a while." At this, Ginny and Lavender both pretended to be hurt and playfully punched their boyfriends in the arm.

"Of course I'll come. Are you guys going to breakfast any time soon?"

"Sure. We'll be there in a minute."

"Right. See you guys down there," she finished with a smile. She was so happy she could barely think. Harry and Ron hadn't asked her to do something for what seemed like forever. Hermione was so happy to be included again that she almost didn't see Draco before she ran into him.

"Watch it Granger," he practically spat at her.

"Good morning to you too, Malfoy," she responded in mock politeness.

"I don't believe I said good morning to you, Mudblood," he replied harshly, spitting out the words at her. He was experiencing a familiar stinging feeling on his cheek. Hermione had slapped him. Again. "How dare—"

"Serves you right, you jerk," Hermione interrupted him. "See you in Potions, Malfoy." She smiled sweetly and walked past him, her shoulder bumping into his intentionally on her way past, knocking him slightly off balance. He turned and watched her retreating back, fuming, and his shoulder tingling where she had pushed him. Hermione had a new bounce in her step.

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After breakfast was Double Potions, the Gryffindors least favorite class. Hermione took her seat—next to Draco—and the lesson began. Today was step five, mixing the first six ingredients together. "Now," Snape began. "We will begin the first real concocting step of the _Instanto Morticio _Potion. You will be taking your boiled platypus blood, powdered skin of ox, unicorn hair, munkswood, eye of a hag and toes of a toad and mixing them together in the order they are listed in your books. Please follow the instructions to the second. Any variation will ruin your potion. This step is crucial, and everything must be precise."

By this time, most of the class was very nervous, save of course, the Slytherins. "This should be easy," said Draco, breaking into the silence Hermione and he had been sharing. "Now, will you get the munkswood and the frog toes?"

"Firstly, I already told you that I will not abide by your orders. Secondly, they are toes of a toad, not a frog." She spoke with such control and seriousness that it angered Draco.

"What nerve, speaking to me as thought you were _my _superior. I applaud your efforts to stand up to me, Granger, but it's becoming rather irritating. Now, will you get the ingredients?"

"I don't think I'm making myself clear, _Malfoy_," she said his name with such disgust that Draco cringed inwardly. "I will not fetch anything for a bad-mannered idiot such as yourself. This is your grade too, so I suggest you get the materials yourself. Time is ticking," she said almost contentedly.

"I don't think I'm making _myself _clear, Granger. I will not do as a Mudblood or anyone else tells me to do. I am a Malfoy, and that entitles me to do anything I want."

"Whatever you say, Malfoy. I suppose that means the potion just won't get done," came Hermione's rather relaxed reply. At first, he didn't believe what she said. Eventually she would have to give in. Hermione was all about grades. She wouldn't let this one slip just to have her way. And how wrong he was.

After about five minuites, Draco was beginning to get nervous. They really didn't have all day. Very reluctantly, Draco finally said, "Hermione, would you _please _get the things we will need from the front of the room?" The word "please" sounded so foreign to him, especially as he said it to Hermione.

"Of course Malfoy. And don't call me Hermione." She could see him starting to rage again, so she said, "Just kidding. Gosh, can't you take a joke?" And she hurried off to the front of the room to get the necessary things from Snape. They had to work swiftly now. They're little disagreement had already cost them ten of their precious minutes. They mixed and chopped and measured, quickly but precisely, all the while being civil to avoid further argument. They had reached a consensus. They didn't like each other, but they had to work together. Now that this fact had been accepted, the going was easier. They both realized that arguing did nothing but waste precious time and insure that they would have to spend more time together outside of class. Neither of them wanted that, after all.

But, what neither of them did realize was that something momentous had happened today. Something that had never happened before between Malfoy and a member of the Golden Trio. Hermione had broken new ground. She had made a compromise with the enemy.

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Hermione and Draco were in the library again, looking up the properties and locations of some other ingredients for their potion, which was coming along quite nicely. Already, some of the students in their class had run into mishaps. A pair of Hufflepuffs had accidentally added the toes of toad to early, completely ruining their potion. They had had to start all over or risk failing Snape's class, a fate that was dreadful to even comprehend.

"Hey!" said Draco. "Maybe we could test our finished potion on Potter. I wouldn't mind—"

"Draco," said Hermione warningly, her eyes already flashing. This was the second time she'd called him by his first name. Half of him wanted to lash out at her rudely, to tell her off for speaking as though they were equal. The second half wanted to keep quiet about it because an even smaller part, completely unknown to him, liked the way she said it. It didn't matter what emotion she was experiencing when she said it, even. The tone, the voice…it was the only voice that said his name without something hidden behind it. When his mother said his name, her voice dripped with hatred, even though she tried to disguise it. She hated him for what his father had become, for how much he reminded her of him in his manner and appearance. She had always hated him, and he had always known it, sensed it. When his father said his name, it was full of disappointment, not love or admiration, just disappointment. He knew as he knew his mother did not love him that his father would never be proud of him. No matter what he did to earn his father's approval, it would never, ever be given.

So, in the end, he chose to keep quiet, not knowing why, but knowing he should.

"Malfoy? Are you there?" Hermione was saying something and Draco hadn't been listening in the least.

"Sorry. Come again?"

"I was just making sure you weren't having one of those weird seizures or something. You were sitting so still, and I tried to get your attention, but you didn't respond."

"Okay, Granger, keep your pants on. I'm not dead or anything, okay?" She looked at him, slightly annoyed, he shrugged, and then they got back to work. They worked steadily until 10:30 again, their eyelids drooping by the time Hermione said, "Let's call it a night. I don't think I can take much more. My eyes keep blurring every time I try to read a paragraph and my hand is to tired to write another sentence."

"You and me both, Granger. Let's clean up this mess." They returned the books and gathered their belongings tiredly and slowly, trying desperately not to fall asleep. "'Night, Granger," Draco said weakly when they arrived at the exit to the library. Hermione, shocked by his politeness, responded with surprise evident in her voice. "'Night, Draco."

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A very tired Hermione crawled into her bed, completely void of any energy. This was how she always seemed to crawl into bed these days. She turned out the light and lay on her back, her thick brown hair sprawled out all over the pillow. The last thing that crossed her mind were Draco's blue-flecked, stormy gray eyes, so close to her. Gosh, were they pretty.

**A/N:** Whoa. Okay. That was fun to write! I am so excited with the way this story is shaping up. I had to rewrite a couple parts a few times to make sure that they weren't at all OOC, but I think I quirked it pretty well. This story is turning out pretty good, so I'm going to keep writing, and all you lovely people should keep reviewing. Thanks so much. There is more to come! Don't get bored. The DracoHermione stuff will start pretty soon, but I want this to be an original story, so you are going to have to be patient.

Please leave a review!

Always,

-Ella


	5. Johari's Window

_-Johari's Window- _

_December 1998-_

****

The snow fell softly outside Hermione's window, and had been falling for most of the night. Already, it had covered the grounds of Hogwarts in about an inch of snow. Hermione awoke to giggles as some the first years gazed out the window, excited by the snow. Hermione could see the simple joy reflected on all of their faces.

"Hurry up Sarah!" One said excitedly. "Some of the guys said they're having a boys versus girls snowball fight! Come on!"

"Hold on," Sarah said. "Give me just sec." She pulled her hair back into a pony tail and slipped a pair of ear muffs over her ears. "Okay. Let's go." She grabbed her friend's hand and pulled her out of the girl's dorms. Hermione could hear them laughing as they left the common room. She smiled appreciatively.

Today was the day she was to go to Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron, she reminded herself. She was so excited to spend time with them she could barely contain it. She missed them so much.

She dressed quickly, pulling a hat down over her bushy brown hair. It looked really cold outside, but Hermione loved this time of year. The snow had a certain elegance, and Hermione loved it. It was pure and beautiful white, Hermione's favorite color. Of course, it wasn't quite a color, Hermione reminded herself. It was all color.

The seventh year hurried down the staircase from the girl's dorms and into the common room full of excitement. Today would be wonderful.

"Hey, 'Mione," said Harry in greeting.

"Hi Harry," said Hermione appreciatively.

"Morning Hermione," Ron greeted Hermione.

"Hey!"

"Anyway, is everyone ready to go now that Herm's here?"

"Yes!" came the chorus of voices.

"Alright, then I think we can go," Harry finished. Hermione was simply beside herself with joy. She hadn't been so happy in what seemed like ages.

The group of five reached the heavy oak doors along with the other third through seventh years in a huge mob. They pushed through everyone to the front and out the massive doors. The sharp, chill air rushed through to meet Hermione's cheeks and nose, biting them. _Hello, Jack Frost, _Hermione thought. Then, she felt a snow ball hit her in the small of her back. "Hey!" she shouted to her assailant. It was Harry. "You're gonna get it now!" she shouted to him.

"I tremble in terror," he said, teasing her. He was silenced by a snow ball in her face from Hermione. Spitting snow the whole way, he began chasing her. Hermione screamed and ran, throwing her head back and laughing. Thus, the snowball fight began.

"Harry, you can be such a child sometimes," commented Ginny.

"Hey, don't forget me!" Ron laughed and threw a snowball at his little sister, hitting her in the back of the head.

"Ron!" Ginny yelled, gathering some snow in her hands and preparing to make a snowball of her own.

"Honestly, you too?" asked Lavender.

"Yes, dear, me too!" shouted Ginny, throwing her prepared snowball at Lavender, who shrieked. Ron ran a tackled her. By this time, she was laughing and screaming at the same time, a very odd combination.

The snowball fight lasted for a good while before all the other students were making their way to Hogsmeade. The group of five trudged along with all the others through the snow, soaked and contented. Hermione was the happiest of all.

After what seemed like ages, Hermione, Lavender, Ron, Harry and Ginny and rest of the students had completed the journey to the little wizard village, which was decorated for the holidays. Green and red tinsel twisted up street lights, and Christmas music leaked out of all the little shops, creating a very cheery and festive atmosphere.

"So, Honeydukes first?" asked Harry, referring to the famous sweets shop.

"Honeydukes it is!" replied Ron, and the group headed in that direction through the snow, which was falling again, softly, in little drifts. It was so good to be back. The group found a little table in the back and squished around it.

"Butterbeers all around?" asked Harry.

"Yes!" came the reply in unison.

"Hermione, do want to come and help me carry?" Harry suggested.

"Sure, Harry." Hermione followed Harry back to the front of the sweets shop to put in their order.

"Five butterbeers, please," Harry said politely to the bartender, who took one look at Harry's forehead and said hurriedly and nervously, "It'll be just moment, Mr. Potter." He went away behind the bar to make their drinks.

Harry said to Hermione, "So, how is everything? It's been so long since I've had a chance to talk to you."

"Well—I'm sorry." Hermione realized that Harry had said 'I'm sorry' at the same time she had. "Sorry for what?" they both said, again at the same time. "You first." Again, in unison.

"Okay," said Hermione hesitantly. "I'm sorry for not being supportive of you and Ginny. I really love you guys, I do. I just feel—"

"Lonely?"

"Yeah," she said, surprised at Harry's perceptiveness once again. He always knew. "I have been lonely, to say the least. I don't want to lay any guilt on you, Harry. I love you and Ron dearly, and these are your lives. Live them how you want, whether or not they include me the way I want to be included," she finished quietly.

"Hermione, Ron and I love you too. No need to worry about that. It's just hard right now. I'll work harder to include you. I promise. I don't want to lose you." Hermione walked over and embraced Harry tightly, not knowing when she would get do it again. He hugged her tightly back. "I've missed you," she whispered.

"So sorry to interrupt, Mr. Potter, but your drinks are ready," broke in the voice of the bartender.

"Yes, yes of course. Thanks so much. Come on Herm."

"Oh yeah. Here, let me grab those," Hermione said, referring to two of the huge mugs of butterbeer as Harry struggled to handle three. Hermione giggled at Harry looking so awkward.

"Oh shut-up, Hermione," said Harry good naturedly. Hermione smiled at him.

When they reached the table, they passed the butterbeers around and the table burst into life with laughing and conversation.

"So, Hermione," Lavender started. "What's it like to work with the hottest guy in Hogwarts. I envy you. How did you manage to get him as a partner?"

"Who? You can't mean Malfoy!" said Hermione, genuinely surprised.

"Don't play coy with me, Hermione. Why else would you want to work with him?"

"I didn't _want _to work with him at all."

"Sure you didn't. _Only _the entire female population of Hogwarts fancies him," said Lavender, and then adding quickly, "But not me, of course," with a quick glance at Ron.

"Whatever." Hermione sighed. Sometimes Lavender was impossible.

"Hey Harry?" asked Ginny. "Would you mind coming with me to pick out some new robes? I need a boy's opinion," she said sweetly, batting her eye lashes at him. Ron made a gagging noise.

"Yeah, me too. Won't you come Ron?" Lavender pouted.

"Oh, um, okay," said Harry, who was already being dragged by his elbow out of his chair.

"You don't mind, do you, Hermione?" asked Ginny, seemingly oblivious. Obviously she minded. But she said, "No, of course not. Why would I mind?" It was rather unconvincing, but Ginny seemed to buy it.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," Harry mouthed to her on the way out.

"See ya, Herm," said Ron. And then they were gone. They had left their half-finished butterbeers and their chairs half pushed in. Hermione was alone. She sipped at her butterbeer, feeling the loneliness setting in again.

"Without your crew again, Granger?" It was Malfoy.

"You without your cronies again, Malfoy?" she answered his question with a question.

"What's your problem Granger? Potter and Weasel abandon you again?" She hated how he knew and asked anyway. He lowered himself into the chair opposite her, taking a sip out of what was Harry's half-finished butterbeer.

"If you must know, they went with Lavender and Ginny."

"_And _abandoned you. So I was right, wasn't I? They left you here." Her look said it all. They had left her. "Mind if I stay awhile? I've got nothing better to do. We could discuss potions or something," he finished sarcastically.

"Alright." She was not in the mood to argue with him. She could only hope that he would leave.

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After another round of butterbeers and about and hour later, he was still there. The conversation was good, and Hermione found herself enjoying his company.

"Johari's Window," she was saying now.

"What the hell is that?" He watched her intently, noticing her crinkle her freckled nose as she thought. She leaned forward on the table, and he could smell her. She smelled faintly of vanilla.

" 'Johari's Window is based on the principle that of all the things about us that exist can be found through positive and honest information. The theory consists of four windowpanes," Hermione recited from a website that she had located earlier that year.

"English please, Granger," Draco said, mildly impressed.

"Well, like I said, Johari's Window is based on four windowpanes, if you will, that all people have. It's completely metaphorical. Anyway, there is the pane that is that part of you that is known to others and to yourself. Then, there is the part that is known only to you and to no one else. There's the part that is known to others and not to you, and finally, the part that is unknown to everyone."

"Well, Granger, tell me something about me."

"Excuse me?"

"Tell me something about me that I don't know." She was caught off guard. Hermione found herself thinking deeply, having trouble with his question.

Draco loved that he was making her think. Everything came so easy to her, and now he had presented her with a question that she was actually having trouble answering. He enjoyed watching the concentration on her face, her nose crinkled in thought again. Finally, she spoke.

"Well, you always put your hand on the side of your face when you're thinking," she began slowly. "And it's always your left hand. You like things like the rain and pretend you don't so others won't think you're soft. You like watching others and guessing at what they're going to do next, and you are wrong much of the time. Sometimes you're right, and that's what keeps you going." He stared at her in disbelief. How did she know these things? As he thought about it, they were all true. "Your turn now," said Hermione. "Tell me something about myself."

Like Hermione, he found himself thinking deeply. He noticed too late that his left hand was cradling his cheek as he leaned on it, and Hermione was giggling at it across the table.

"Think you're clever, do you?" He began. "Well, you always scrunch up your nose when you're deep in thought, you don't like me but like my company, especially for the meaty arguments. You always giggle and then look away when you find something highly amusing." She thought about it, and all of his claims were correct. How did he know? There was an awkward silence and Hermione looked down into her mug.

"Well, um, thanks for this," she started, not sure exactly what to say.

"Sure. At least this trip wasn't a complete waste of my time. So, have any plans for the break?" He was referring to the Christmas Vacation which was coming up in the next couple of weeks.

"Nope. I'm staying at school. I figure I'll work on the potion a little, you know, stuff."

"You mean _we'll _work on the potion."

She looked at him, surprised. "You're staying?"

"Why not? It's not like they want me home anyway." She noted the bitterness in his tone. She wanted to ask him what it was, but chose not to.

"I should probably get going. I guess I'll see you back at the castle. Tonight in the library?"

"'Course. See you then. Bye Hermione."

She looked at him in shock, disbelieving her ears. But then she recovered, saying with a shy smile,"Bye Draco. See you." He watched her go, a bit reluctantly. Now there really was nothing to do. He was glad she had been here.

Johari's Window. He would have to read up on that.

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Hermione hurried away from Honeydukes in the snow which was falling harder now. She was happy, and happier than she had been all day. That thought didn't occur to her until later, and even then, its importance didn't quite register. She had spent time with Draco outside of school and enjoyed it. She wrapped her scarf tighter about her neck and began the journey back to Hogwarts castle, full of a life she had forgotten existed. She skipped most of the way through the cold, the tails of her scarf and her long hair flying out behind her.

**A/N: **Thanks for the quote about Jahari's Window. I find that theory so interesting that I just had to include it in my story. Patience reviewers, the fluff is yet to come.

Please leave me a review!:)

Forever,

-Ella-


	6. A Single Moment, A Beautiful Tear

**_-A Single Moment, A Beautiful Tear-_**

_Any moment, everything can change…_

_For a minute, all the world can wait_

_Let go of your yesterday…_

_Can you hear it calling?_

_Can you feel in your soul?_

_Can you trust this longing _

_And take control?_

_Fly_

_Open up the part of you that wants to hide away…_

_Forget about the reasons…it's your time,_

_Time to fly._

_-Hilary Duff_

Hermione realized that she was fretting. Fretting. What was she doing? She was fixing her hair. That's what she was doing. How odd. She stopped what she was doing at once.

It was 7:20, and she began to gather her books for her nightly study time with Draco. They were ahead of the class in their potion now, and it was perfect. Hermione was proud of all the work they had done. Their potion looked and smelled exactly as their book said it should. She wasn't sure what they were going to work on tonight. They were already so far ahead of the rest of the class.

She tied her hair back in a messy ponytail and hurried down the stairs. Ron and Harry were in the common room, playing a game of Quidditch Through The Ages Trivia. The game bored Hermione endlessly, but Harry and Ron seemed to find it invigorating.

"Hey guys," she said, greeting them on her way out.

"What's up Herm? Do you want to join our game?" Ron asked hopefully.

"You know I'd love to," Hermione said sarcastically. "But I have a study date with Malfoy."

"Oh, so it's a date, is it?" said Harry. "If it is, you know I'll have to beat him up, right?"

"Harry, please," Hermione said, sounding superior. "But I have to go. I'll see you guys later, I guess, if you're not already asleep."

"Hermione, get real. I don't even know why you're working. It's the weekend, and we all know you're way ahead of the class anyway. As always," Harry said knowingly.

"Never hurts to be prepared," Hermione replied.

"Yeah yeah. Well, I guess we'll see you later," Ron said.

"Yeah. Bye Herm. And I'm sorry about Hogsmeade. It wasn't supposed to be that way," said Harry, looking embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine. It's fine. Anyway, see you guys later."

"Bye," Harry and Ron said together. She could hear them discussing homework and why it wasn't healthy as she left her best friends in the common room. She loved them to death, but they were both so lazy! So lazy, in fact, that it was funny. She smiled to herself and laughed quietly. Life was funny. She walked down the marble staircase and into the main hall, walking the last few yards to library. Working with Draco wasn't so bad. Correction: Working with _Malfoy_ wasn't so bad.

He was there ahead of her again, sitting at their usual table, and reading what looked like a novel, and not one that you would find in the Hogwarts library. As Hermione glanced quickly at the spine, she recognized the name of a muggle author, John Steinbeck "You read Steinbeck?" Her question startled him, as he had been deeply immersed in his book.

"Don't do that, Granger!"

"You read Steinbeck?" she said again.

"Yes, what of it?"

"Well, he's a muggle. And his stuff doesn't really seem to be your style."

"I don't care if he's a muggle, he's written—wait, you read him too?"

"I've read a _few _of his works," she said shyly. Draco was keenly aware of the shy tone in her voice.

"You've read them all, haven't you?" he asked smartly.

"Well I wouldn't say that, exactly. Actually—"

"Granger."

"Fine. Yes. I've read them all. Which one have you got there?"

"_The Pearl."_

"That's my favorite one!"

"Really? Me too. I've read it before, but it just never quite loses it's effect on me."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's such a powerful story, and Steinbeck is a phenomenal writer."

"I know. The imagery and the word choice and—" Draco stopped. He and Hermione had just made a _connection_. That meant they had something in common. He had something in common with Hermione. He didn't know if he was ready for that.

"And what?"

"Nothing," said Draco quickly. "Let's just do what we have to do."

"Alright," said Hermione, confused. She had thought that the conversation was going so well.

The rest of the evening, like so many before, was spent in silence and research. At 11:00, Hermione said, "Draco, I think we should pack it up. It's already 11:00." There it was. The use of his first name again, and again, he chose to be quiet about it.

"Alright." They returned the books and gathered their supplies just like always. The routine was the same.

Hermione had a stack of books ten high that she was trying to take over to their shelves when she tripped on her shoelace and fell. She landed on her stomach, the books all over in front of her. She quickly got to her knees, embarrassed, and struggled to gather all the books again.

Draco rushed over to her, having seen her fall, and got to his knees to help her. She was always dropping things.

Their scrambling hands fell on the same book again, fingers brushing each other. Hermione gasped and let in a sharp intake of breath. Draco stopped breathing altogether. Their eyes were moving everywhere but the others face, and the moment seemed to last forever. Then, their eyes met. Hermione's chocolate brown eyes mingled with Draco's storming grey one's, and for a moment she was bewildered. This was only the second time that they had been so close.

Draco didn't know what to do. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. He just didn't know what to do with it. So he did the only thing that he knew how. He said, "Where do you get off thinking it's okay to touch me, Mudblood?" He watched as her eyes clouded over with tears. She wrenched the book away from him, their skin no longer touching. He could breathe again.

"I'll get the rest of them," she said weakly, the tears streaming down her cheeks. She was too tired to be angry, and she felt defeated. The day had gone so well between the two of them, and now this. She just couldn't understand him. He was too unpredictable.

He watched her as she gathered her books again quickly, tried to pick them up, and dropped them again in her hurry. She sank to her knees and put her head in her hands, little gasps coming from her as she sobbed.

Draco crawled over to her, not sure what he was going to do when he got there. He kneeled in front of her so that they were facing each other. She lifted her head to face him.

"Have you no shame?" she asked, finding her voice and her rage, finally. "I'm a person, you know, a person with feelings. Not that you would know about those."

"I know plenty about feeling, you stuck up little mudblood!" At this, Hermione raised her hand and moved to slap him, but this time, anticipating it, he caught her wrist in mid-swing. "Not this time," he said triumphantly. She tried to stand, but Draco pushed down on her arm, and she crumpled to the ground again.

He sat back on his knees, still holding her wrist, and looked at her. The tears were still coming out of her eyes in rivers, and he reached out with his other hand and caught one on his fingertip for the second time. It was beautiful. He brought it close to his face and examined it, loving its prismatic effect, and all the little rainbows danced before his eyes. He took the single tear and placed it on his own cheek with his index finger, wanting her beautiful tear for his own.

He reached out and touched her wet cheek, wanting to feel the moist skin. He had not cried for fifteen years. He had almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Draco, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, and her hand flew up to grab his wrist and stop him from touching her face anymore. It was scaring her, and so were the little shocks of electricity flowing down her back. "I'll hex you," she threatened, and it was an empty threat.

"Yeah? How's that? How many hands have you got left?"

They were trapped. His right wrist in her left hand and her right wrist in his left hand.

Draco realized that he was shivering, and that Hermione had used his first name again. He looked at her, her thick brown hair, her freckled nose, her red lips, her creamy skin. He felt how small her wrist was and noticed how slender she was, and looked at her little boyish figure, her small chest and the gentle curve of her hips. She was beautiful. How could he have spent all this time with her and not realized that she was beautiful? He wanted to kiss her, to have part of her beauty for his own, just as he had claimed the tear as his own.

Hermione looked at Draco through her blurry eyes. His eyes were stormy grey, and they were soft right now, as she had never seen them before. Or maybe she had never looked properly before. She felt how big and strong his hands were as she noticed again the grip he had on her wrist. It was nearly bruising her. She looked at him and his body that was no longer a skinny boy's body, but the muscular body of a man. Draco had become a man. His hair was almost white, it was so blond. It was angel-blond. She wondered how soft it was. She marveled at how she could not have realized how beautiful this boy was. Tainted with cruelty, yes, but beautiful just the same.

He leaned toward her, breathing in her smell. _Vanilla tears sadness confusion…_that's what she smelled like. She even smelled lovely.

He was leaning toward her, so close that she could smell him. _Spices, confusion, anger, desire and something else…_she inhaled deeply.

Suddenly, their faces were only an inch apart, perhaps less. Everything blended together, and Hermione could no longer make out his features clearly. She could hardly breathe. "Malfoy," she breathed.

"Shh," he whispered, savoring this moment. Nothing good ever seemed to last very long. He remembered a poem he had read somewhere…_Nature's first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaves a flower, but only so an hour. As leaf subsides to leaf, so Eden sank to grief. So dawn turns down to day, nothing gold can stay…_

He didn't know what was happening. He didn't know why he was so close to this girl he practically hated. He did hate her, didn't he? That had never been a question before. Of course he hated her. So why was he so captivated by the way the tears hung to her lashes, the positions of the many freckles that peppered her nose…?

She loathed this boy, did she not? So why was he so close, and why was she _allowing _him to be so close? Why was she studying him, trying to memorize his expressions? Why didn't she want this moment to end? She hated him, right? Right. Right?

A moment later, he couldn't help himself. He closed the remaining space between them, taking her lips for his own. He always got what he wanted. It didn't matter that he was kissing Hermione Granger. She was beautiful, if only to him, and he was a nasty selfish boy. Why shouldn't he have all that he wanted? And her lips were so soft and innocent, inexperienced, inviting. He had never kissed a girl this way before. The way she responded and shivered beneath him made him crave her more, wanting to devour her and keep her forever. _Forever_ _forever forever…_

He was kissing her, and with a passion. She shivered. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. This moment was beautiful. She knew to live life for its moments. This happy moment might be all she had to hang on to someday. Life was so unpredictable, full of moments such as this. This was the moment of moments. In this moment, part of her had been given away. Part of her was already lost to him.

Finally, the kiss ended. It had not been heated, but it had been satisfying. Hermione sat back, still holding his wrist, breathing deeply. She had just kissed Draco Malfoy. She had kissed the dragon, and she had liked it, wanted it, craved it. She stood up swiftly. She knew she had to get away from him. He brought out things in her that she didn't understand, perhaps part of that special and unknown pane of her Johari's Window. She didn't trust what she didn't know. Hermione left the library on fast quiet feet, without saying anything to Draco, and without looking back. She was afraid of what might happen if she did.

Draco watched her back, watched as her small figure disappeared through the wooden doors of the library. What the hell had just happened? What was going on? Draco had never acted on his instincts, never done anything on impulse. How did she manage to change him, alter the way he was? Who was this girl? This young woman of ambition and beauty, who he had never stopped to look at before, never spared a second glance? What was she doing to him now? Why could he not sort it out?

Hermione and Draco each made the separate journey to their dorms, completely lost in thought. Both of them had learned something important; in a single moment, everything can change. Change forever.

_Any moment, everything can change…_

_For a minute, all the world can wait,_

_Let go of your yesterday._

_Can you feel it calling?_

_Can you feel it in you soul?_

_Can you trust this longing_

_And take control?_

_Fly_

_Open up the part of you that wants to hide away…_

**A/N: **Did you like it? I hope so. I like it. Anyway, **acknowledgements/disclaimers:** The poem included is entitled "Nothing Gold Can Stay". It belongs to my favorite poet, Mr. Robert Frost. The song featured at the beginning and end of this chapter was recorded by Hilary Duff, and most likely belongs to Disney. I don't know, but the point being the song doesn't belong to me. Thanks for your help, any of you who have reviewed. I hope you liked this chappie. I think it's my favorite one so far, and like I've said through all of this, I'm working so hard for no OOC scenes because I think that defeats the purpose of using Harry Potter characters at all. Anywho, until the next chapter, goodbye now!

Don't forget to leave me a review!;)

-Ella-__


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